Ashes Rising
by Moon Bunny
Summary: Harry Potter, Ginny, family and various others go on an political world adventure when war breaks out between magical communities. After HP7 In cannon, please R&R !
1. Celebration And Mourning

NOTE: After HP 7. IF YOU HAVE NOT READ- CONTAINS SPOILERS.

Normal disclaimer applies.

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**Celebration And Mourning- Years After**

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Harry Potter decided he was getting to old for his own good. He lay sprawled out in the down bed that enveloped him, his hand resting in the warm spot Ginny had left a few minutes earlier; now she was getting ready for the day.

There was a large window covered by emerald green curtains, but the gleaming sun had somehow managed to get through and land on Harry's face. He squinted, sighing and rolling to the side. This morning, was not a morning he really wanted to face.

And then he heard the little pounding footsteps, quick and fast through the hallway. He groaned.

The little Lily Potter, a full 9 years old, green eyes bright, curly red hair fling everywhere dressed in a long cotton nightgown squealed, "Happy Harry Potter Day daddy!" And jumped on the bed to give him a huge hug.

Harry groaned again. This day was not happy, nor did he really want to deal with the crowds and parades celebrating his victory over Voldemort. Why couldn't they just recognized everyone who fought? His mind wondered to old, deceased friends, and those who were hurt, and all the trials he had gone through. There was nothing really happy about this day for him

But for his little girl, his little bottle of joy, energy and plenty of mischief, it was a day for her to tell the world SHE had the best-_est_ father ever. And, for Harry, it filled him with pride that she admired him so much. He ruffled her hair with a smile and a "Good morning."

"What'cha going to do today?" She jumped up and down on Ginny's side of the bed, curiosity radiant in her eyes. Every year sense she'd been old enough to realize that her family had its very-own special day, she'd done this, sprinting into the room and trying to figure out what festivities she could take a part in.

"You, Lily" Ginny said, leaning up against the bathroom door in a beautiful sundress, brushing out her long red hair slowly "Will be spending the day with your Uncle Ron."

Lily's face fell, and she stopped jumping on the bed. Her bright green eyes pleading with her moms before she even got the words out. "But mom…"

"No buts…we have to go do very important things today, and you and Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione and whoever else is going will be in Diagon Ally, having fun."

She seemed kind of torn. Lily knew- that her parents always did something special, and every year she was never allowed to go. "But why can't I go with you?"

Harry sat up and pulled his little girl close with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Because, if you go with us, you can't go get the Ice Dragon Pops at Mrs. Persihi's place. Now, go get dressed, Uncle Ron is going to be here soon."

It didn't take long until a mass of red-heads had clustered into their huge living room. Ron, George, a mass of children all under 11, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, had all entered through the Floo network, and now were chattering with Hello's, how have you been and other pleasant talk.

Ron, dressed in a Potter's # 1 T-shirt under his dress robes grinned at his long time friend.

Harry looked at it in distain. "Please don't tell me you actually bought that."

Ron gave a teasing grin and shrugged. "Actually, it was Hermione's idea."

"It was not! Don't you start lying this early in the… Oh , Willow, don't do that" She was interrupted by one of the children trying to pick up a glass vase from one of the counters.

"Ok, so it was a gift from my oldest." There was something about the way Ron said it, a sense of pride that can only be heard from caring fathers.

"Well, your oldest defiantly inherited your taste then" Harry grumbled.

"Okay troupe!" Mrs. Weasley's voice conquered the chit-chatter-chaos of the Weasley clan. "Youngest to oldest, through the Floo network. Everybody take their powder, to Diagon Alley where we're going. Everybody stay with who they are suppose to stay with today, and no wondering off!"

"Yes Grandma" Lily chirped back. Mrs. Weasley after their 20th grandkid still sometimes look startled. Harry sighed as one by one they disappeared into the green fire, and it became quiet again.

He ran his hand through the hair he hadn't bothered to comb, still the thick curly black mop it had been sense he was eleven. He pulled Ginny into a hug. Ginny could feel that underneath is formal dressrobes, he his muscles were tense, and from the tight grip that he had, he was a bit sad. He sighed. "Every year."

Ginny pulled away. And looked up into the eyes she could easily get lost in for years to come. "It is because you saved all of us."

"But…what about the people who saved me?" He had that boyish uncomfortable look that hadn't vanished with his growing age. This argument happened nearly every year- the man who always thought of others before himself. Ginny knew, that he felt such sorrow that they weren't recognized on a national level like he was, those who gave more for him than he gave to them, or so he felt. She remained silent, nothing she could say would really justify or make their losses less. Over the years the pain had become more of a remembered fact, though there were moments that sorrow intensified for those who survived. Today, Harry-Potter Day, for the one and only boy-who-lived-twice was about recognizing those who gave their lives for him, his friends, near family, and those he didn't even really know. Those Wizards and Witches who believed in the cause, who stepped up for the belief in good.

Ginny took his hand. "Lets go." And they popped out of their living room with a silent apparition spell.

They reappeared, moments later in a graveyard, where a few people milled between gravestones, placing flowers quietly in remembrance. Not only was it a day of victory for Wizzard-kind, many men and women lost their lives on the same day. Harry had been adamant, that all be buried in a burial ground created for the specific purpose for honoring those who fought. The sun glowed brightly, the weather a perfect spring day, it was beautiful, though the contrast seemed to minimize the loss that was symbolized here. There were stone markers for each and every victim of Voldemort, from his first rise of power until the day he had been destroyed. He'd not recognized all of the names…but so many he knew, and for each one there was a powerful sadness that sat inside his heart.

Ginny stood beside him, holding his hand. The wind tugged at her dress and they walked down the isle putting flowers on graves.

There really wasn't much to say, so they walked in silence. The pain, the funerals, the years of memories and sorrow said it all- that the war had been costly and loved ones were lost. It was a tradition of honoring them, a tradition that Harry refused to leave behind year after year.

Some other men and women saw him, walking silently, and there were whispers "its Harry Potter! Look at him!" But, he ignored them, and they let him pay his respects, as it should be done.

Then Ginny burst into a mixture of laughter and tears. There, in a neat row of all the white gravestones laid Fred Weasley's, now a bright lime green which every once in awhile let out a putrid smell. Ginny wasn't quite sure if this had been done by George, or some other in honor of the now famous Weasley store, but it was how Fred would have wanted it. She looked at Harry who shook his head.

His gravestone said "Creating Mischief In The Afterlife"

They spent hours, wondering along the rows, placing their flowers, every once in awhile sharing a story, an event, something special they remembered, until the sun went down, and it was time to pick up their one under-school age child, give greetings to those who had stories to tell of celebrations, and to let them revel in the fact that the world was peaceful and they survived all because of the bravery of one man.

The next day came quickly, the night being filled with stories of Hogwarts and all the trouble they'd gotten into over the years, memories of loved ones, a little to much alcohol, and the joy of a younger generation playing underneath the adults feet. This morning, was no different than the average morning. Lily had taken the affinity of sleeping in late, so every school morning getting her up required the threats of charming her sheets into ice, before she'd arise cranky to head off to a wizzarding elementary school. She'd huff and puff until she got to the floo, and sometimes Ginny would just push her through, ignoring her groans and whines of why she didn't want to go to school that day. She'd most definitely taken after her uncles in the academically lazy characteristics.

Ginny would then smile, turn to her husband and apparate off to her mysterious top-secret job.

Even Harry wasn't quite sure what she did- and Ginny would just smile sweetly when asked and threaten to jinx you if you pushed. Harry learned that the tone of voice she used meant- I'm not going to give any hints and I mean it- and he never really pushed. He'd done some secret research on his own, being a head Auror helped with restrictive access, but even he couldn't get a full picture of what she was up to. He privately held the belief that Ginny was making up for those years when she didn't get to fight and be in on the adventure, by doing top secret Ministry missions and going to god-knows-where. All he knew, is that she wasn't in Britain.

He left for the ministry, which had been rather quiet lately. The European Wizzarding world seemed to be at peace, and there wasn't much for him to do aside from the occasional robbery or rare murder.

Ginny appeared in an alleyway, and closed her eyes. Her body transformed with a pop into that of a bright red cardinal, taking off into flight. She landed on a telephone wire and took in her surroundings.

It was still dark here, the quiet street lit by the occasional streetlight- though they were few and far in-between. It was a business area, tall skyscraper buildings, every-once in awhile an occasional light on from the over-zealous overtime worker, and from those just wishing to stay away from broken families and who-knows-what else. It had always surprised Ginny- Muggles seemed to have more conflict and less unity than their Wizzarding counterparts- though she also knew that the Wizzarding world couldn't afford such conflicts, there simply wasn't enough of them. She flew on, the most exhilarating part of her job, to be able to fly above the streets using nothing but these wings, there was something liberating about it. She flew around a tight corner and landed on a tree branch, overlooking a large fountain-statue of a woman holding a large book with the inscription "Those who know can create change" Now, all she had to do was wait.

It didn't take long. She saw the clear blue water turn an odd green, and out came three Wizzards in t-shirts and jeans. They looked at each other and sat on a bench.

"Are you sure that no one can hear us?" A tall lanky man, maybe 30 whispered. He seemed relaxed in his muggle clothes, but Ginny knew he was definitely a wizard. Calm, and cool, he was rumored to be as vicious as the late Lucious Malfoy and possibly as powerful as Harry Potter himself, not that Ginny believed the latter. But, what they spoke of was disturbing.

As a bird, she couldn't catch every word, but what she did hear frightened her.

Death, destruction, Britain, Brainwashing, Gaining Power, Time for us to reign the World…uniting of all wizards under a single rule… They didn't have specific plans, except to meet back tomorrow, but she could tell something was up that she didn't get from their body language and hushed tones.

They were planning something.

But what?

Ginny knew- it had something to do with them, a whole ocean away. The pieces weren't together yet, they were intentionally vague, they had to be meeting somewhere else also. She inwardly groaned in frustration, she wished she could run this by Harry, but there was no need to worry them, the Ministry would figure this out and close it by themselves; way before the strongest Wizzard alive would get worried, fret and become involved. And Ginny knew, if he was involved, his heart and soul would be focusing on that, creating a burden that she knew he didn't want to carry.

But she wanted to fight, and she vowed to figure out what was happening so she could take her stand.

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	2. Sink a Boat, Swim Ashore

**Sink a Boat, Swim Ashore**

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When James Potter Jr. entered Hogwarts, all the Hogwarts' professors knew that they were in for a combination of Fred and George's mischief and the unstifled sense of adventure of Harry Potter combined. What they weren't prepared for was the quieter's Albus Severus entrance into the school. 

Harry had decided not to, on the urging of his wife, and a few others (mostly Hermione admittedly) not to release the famous stories of the various late, confusing and chaos ridden entrances that they had made over their school years. Rather, the focused on the sorting, reassuring their son and letting him think about the various wonders.

Albus, commonly called Al, was a red curly-mop of curiosity, was always asking questions, and was slightly timid. All those who knew his father tell he would soon take on his father's leadership, if unknowingly; he possessed the charm and the outright skill that his other brother made up in forwardness and creativity.

Combined, they were a perfect duo, one leading the other into planned mayhem, with a little bit of caution. What James would just go do, Albus would stand behind making alterations to the plan to get them out alive, and it worked dangerously well, most of the time.

With a little prodding James convinced Albus to carry some things from Georges Shop in a sack to the Hogwarts, because his parents, loving and kind, had searched his bag of school supplies before hand to make sure he didn't have anything _too _dangerous, not that his uncle wouldn't have sent him stuff through the owl-post anyway. But, of course, the first week of school is the best time to leave a shocking, or booming in this case, impression, and that's exactly what James had in mind.

Unfortunately, the explosives never made it to the castle- and this was Albus's problem, and one he'd be known for his entire stay.

The first-years left the carriages onto the boats, staring in wonderment at the large castle in the distance. The sky was clear, and Hagrid, large and tall (but undaunting to Albus, who had met the half-giant before Albus could even walk). Onto the boat he went, clutching his (as his brother called it) sack-o-surprise. He was on the rickety swaying boat, the first years in whispering about what was going to happen, where they would be sorted etc. The tension and the swampy atmosphere left a sense of eerie fascination, and he stood back listening to the chatter. He really didn't want to introduce himself; the second people knew his name he ended up with strange looks, and he would just wanted them not notice him at all. This, was a task that was not to happen at his stay at Hogwarts, and like his father, he would eventually just have to adjust.

The boat swayed strongly, and he lost his balance, and instinctually he reached out his hands to break his fall, and this ultimately was the biggest mistake.

The inconspicuous brown sack fell to the ground with a thump.

And then it started Buzzing.

His second mistake was that he didn't know exactly what was IN the bag, because he decided it would be better not to know exactly what his brother had planned (probably with the scheming help of Uncle George) and so he just let it go. But now the bag was buzzing louder and louder, and second later, it was on fire.

In a mostly wooden boat. In a swamp full of magical creatures. With first years who couldn't do a lick of magic and were now panicking.

Wide eyed, Albus stuttered, watching as the fire burned a nice wide circular hole, and then proofed out of existence, just in time to let the dark water rush in.

The boat started to sink.

"Hagrid!" Albus screamed- seemed like the appropriate time as his ankles were being covered by murky swamp water. The other first years clamored to the other side of the boat, wide eyed and grabbing the things they carried from the quickly rising water.

He heard Hagrid say something in his deep voice, that could probably be only identified as some sort of Giant curse word, if it had any meaning at all, and then the boat sank, (rather quickly to all's astonishment)

The mermaids helped those who couldn't tread water, chucking to one another in mer-speak. Albus grinned sheepishly. "Hi," this seemed as good a time as any, sense all his former boat-mates, now current swim mates were all glaring at him with this shocked look "My name is Al." He'd let them figure out the Potter part later. A few were elated by this strange unfortunate turn of events, until floating on a broomstick was their worst nightmare, or rather, the most frightening thing a first-year can see before the school year even starts. A very, very angry Headmaster McGonagall.

19 years had not done her much of a change, she was still the powerful, patient and very commanding woman she had been during Harry's stay at Hogwarts. Grey hair still stayed in a tight bun, glasses still on her face. Over the years she had become and remained Headmaster, enforcing discipline and guiding the students among there way. Even though she was headmaster, her robes had a deep green trim, that symbolized her prior head-of-house status. This, she counted as another first, and she assumed, with the bunches of Weasley's and Potter's that were going to make it through these gates in the next ten years that there would be many more originals. She scanned the crowd, her eyes saw familiar faces, but the one that stood out was the sopping wet, Albus Potter, treading water slowly and looking sheepish. She'd seen that look on James Potter's face, Harry's and now James Potter Jr's, and she knew, he'd done it, but for kicks and all important intimidation purposes, she said in her loudest principle voice:

"Which one of you sank the boat?"

There was immediate silence. And then a synchronized pointing of hands to Albus, who wished he could become a Mer-person and never enter the famed school of magic.

He timidly waved, as if it would defer her anger. "Albus Potter! I expected better of you. Which-ever house you are apart of, 20 points from it."

All the students who understood the point system groaned and stared, half between in wonderment of being a Potter and half in disappointment if he was in their house, they'd already be down in points the semester.

With a flick of her wand, McGonagall floated all of the overboard first years to shore, where they met the rest of their class.. The rest of the events went on as scheduled, Potter becoming a Gryffindor (and his brother immensely jealous at his unplanned entrance because it was more creative than his own) and immediately hugged his brother with a "I CANNOT wait to write to Dad about this!"

Albus's eyes went wide. If dad knew, MOM knew, and if Mom knew, he'd imagine he'd be the first student of the year to receive a howler. His brother hugged him and grinned "Welcome to Hogwarts!"

In fact, he was the first student to receive a howler. He was also the first student to fly on his broom, and cast a charm. Over the semester he did excel in his own quiet way, though his papers and homework seemed to be average, but that was perfectly ok with him. He had his trouble, potions was the bane of his existence, even though the potion's professor was a nice cheerful woman who encouraged his every move. Its just that, his every move seemed to cause a boil when there needed to be a simmer, a off colored green when he needed blue, a sulfur smell when he needed something that smelled of roses. He was, very skilled at being unskilled, he couldn't even mistake himself into being right and it drove him batty.

There was something that bothered him. His older brother had mentioned it, and he felt it to- the Rune's professor, a man from America whose claim to fame was he'd traveled the world, would watch them. He didn't have a class- Runes' were for upper levels only, but James would see him staring at the lunch table. Observing him.

He was once stopped in the hall, with the explanation that he was an old friend's of their fathers, and wondered how he was doing. This was normal, but his probing questions were…how many brothers and sisters did he have, where did they work, how was the house, where did his little sister go to wizzarding school. It didn't seem weird until later, but he couldn't have felt that he gave a little to much information.

The first half of the year came and went without any further major events, but the boat was never forgotten. Spring came along, and the Rune's professor began to try and befriend him. He seemed nice enough, genuinely interested in his school work, the things Albus was interested in. He offered to teach him a little about Runes (and when Albus wrote to Aunt Hermione about this, she wrote back adamantly encouraging him to) and to help him with his nightmare potion grade.

He agreed, maybe, his instinct was wrong. He put it into his head to ask his father about it later- it was true that his dad knew some crazy people… Luna confounded him when she came to visit, always talking in riddles and occurrences that made no sense to him, and Ginny had told him that she'd calmed down over the years off-handedly. Maybe that was it- he just had little tact, it wasn't like the entire world didn't know his father, at least by name.

Besides, the Rune's professor was very eloquently spoken, and smart- maybe he could help bring up those paper grades that he struggled with so much.

Unbeknownst to Albus, Rune's Professor Lockley was a member of the American Magical Association, the AMA, as it was called for short, advocated the advancement of American Magicians throughout the world. They're mission was to send Americans around the world, to pick up different positions and announce that American Magicians did have standing in the worlds magical power. With the leading magicians around the world mostly coming from Europe, American Wizzarding schools had a lot to do to educate their young wizards to help them be the best. Professor Lockley was among these, scouted out by the Society to bring forth education around the globe, to stand as a showing point that America was important to. It was a noble goal, filled with the cause of bettering education and bringing fame to unknown magical schools that littered the North American Continent.

Ginny's job, or current assignment was to investigate (spy) on three members of the AMA, three who took a leading role in promoting this cause for good. People in the ministry of Magic had heard disturbing reports from various unidentified sources, stating that children were being taught idealistic goals of power, and dark magic to be able to over-power weaker magicians. It sounded creepily like an organization aimed at creating a single rule of all wizard kind, and it rang to much like Voldemort for the British Wizzarding World's good. There was an unspoken vow among those at the ministry- what happened before could not happen again.

And Ginny, bright as an animagus cardinal had been sent to spy on these dangerous men, to find more about the real motives and goals of the organization. She had heard much of the positive rigmarole that was written on pamphlets at introductory meetings, but had also heard private conversations between board members that were questionable in the very least. She'd even ventured into a meeting, quiet, and sat in the back and watched. she had to admit, it was quite moving and powerful, she could feel her heart being swayed into this dream of American Wizzardry, and she wasn't even American! Though the small sneak-a-scope she'd borrowed from Harry's desk had gone off widely the whole night. The pieces weren't fitting together- everything seemed like an ideal goal.

After further discussion with the head of the Ministry of Magic, it had been decided that she should join.

The problem, she needed to live in America, set up a different identity and enter a potentially dangerous situation, all without her husband knowing, the husband who when wanted to know something, had more favors to pull than countable, and in a desperate moment could probably just use magic to get what he wanted.

Ginny bit her lip, as much as a bird could anyway, she couldn't investigate without becoming closer, but she couldn't become closer without betraying her families trust.

The Minister had said "You'll know what to do." But the truth was, she didn't. Her heart yearned for adventure, for solving mysteries, for casting a curse or two, and for battle. Her body missed missed action, while Harry would probably more content lounging around the house- she needed to be out and about. But at the same time, Harry would give her 'the look' if he found out she was entering dangerous situations without even telling him. That she'd break his trust, and then he'd, worst of all, hover -like she was four instead of the capable 34 she was. And, she'd been ordered to…Harry knew about duty.

She sang a bird song, little in tune tweets only capable by an animangus, flying along trying to relax. She needed to make a decision soon; the induction ceremony was coming at the end of the month, after a detailed interview and selection process.

They only wanted the best to represent. It was sort of an American honor from what she gathered, so she definitely needed to have a concrete back story to be accepted. She sighed, she was going to have to tell Harry, despite direct orders.

At least she knew he would keep it secret, even if he was more likely to treat her like a china doll. Even after all these years of yelling and well placed glares, there were moments where he hovered in a protective manner she most positively disliked. And, she let him know each and every single time.

Harry Potter was admittedly a wonderful husband.

But how to break the news?

She paused and landed on a high tree branch. Below she could see the fountain, near dusk, the blue water becoming a bright orange hue due to the reflected sunlight. It was beautiful here; she had to admit that the AMA had good choice in location. The park was slightly out of place, nuzzled in the middle of a murky downtown, but the park remained well kept and looked like it would be nice place to take an afternoon stroll.

As clockwork, the water flashed green and there were the three men, though this time they spoke in hushed hurried voices.

"Is it done?"

"We are all set for when the time is right. Our numbers are strong."

"Are they strong enough to move? Don't we need more time?"

"By a single display of our power, we will have more time. Fredrick, we have got to move soon, or they'll catch on. There are roomers that their Ministry of Magic in Britian has heard that something is amiss, our cover story seems to be failing at higher levels, though I'm not sure why. We need to move before they shut down our operation, and besides, if legend has it right, this plan will only make us stronger."

There were nods. "How long?"

"A week, max. We need to hear back from a few over there to organize the final plans."

"What about retaliation?"

"If all goes well, they won't have time. If not we have the portkeys and we'll meet up to regroup. This isn't our only plan. We must be careful though, if we get caught on our own, we may have trouble getting them all away."

The tallest of the group paused looking around, staring directly at the red cardinal, who apparently had been still for just a little to long. Ginny decided it was time to flutter away, before she was jinxed, and her cover fully blown.

All the conversation did was leave a lot of questions- and urge her to move immediately. They needed to figure out what was going on and fast.

It seemed she was joining sooner than she thought. Now, all she needed to do was tell the ministry and Harry, whom would probably be more of a challenge.

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	3. A Family's Return To Bravery

**Families Return To Bravery**

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Not very long after Harry had graduated Hogwarts, he became the head Auror, a great honor among the wizzarding world. After years of fighting against Voldemort, handling mysteries and nearly impossible dangers, he figured that being an Auror would lend to excitement, dueling, curse breaking, and general battles on a day to day basis, something that he'd become accustomed to in his lifetime. He'd heard stories of grandeur, excitement and suspense from those he'd met throughout his life, stories from times of peace and war: times against Voldemort. But nothing could have prepared him for what his job entailed: massive quantities of boring paperwork.

He placed his head down on his large oak desk and sighed. Piles of disorganized papers lay all around for him to read, to analyze- he wished to be back in the old trio where Hermione did all of the reading. This wasn't his forte- but as a leader he was taken from the front lines (admittedly which was more sitting at a coffee shop and discussing the weather than anything else these days) and sat behind a desk at the Ministry, signing off orders and intervening if something went terribly wrong- which in the 14 years he had kept the job; it hadn't.

Every once in awhile, he went on 'observation' missions just so he could cast a spell or two. Even though he wasn't really pleased with being the target of evil-overzealous warlords, and a legendary hero who was either hated or worshiped, he wanted to go back to those days. He especially wanted to go back on those days with over the 150 reports of: all is well at this coffee shop, a kid cast a dark-arts spell, there was a attempted robbery at Gringotts, but the goblin's got him, and various other unexciting, dull stories that he didn't even get to be a part of.

His life consisted of: read paperwork, talk to a few Aurors, catch up with friends, read more boring paperwork, answer a question or two, sign said monotonous paperwork, organize tedious paperwork, hum off a tune, lunch, repeat until 5pm. Ginny, who'd taken an official position at the department of mysteries (to Harry's dismay) life seemed much more interesting and secretive. In fact, all his friends' lives seemed much more exciting and secretive, even though he was the one with the all powerful protector of the Ministry job.

He levitated his pen, pushing his chair back and letting the magic do the signing work, his mind wondering to other more pressing issues like his wife.

Ginny had been very tense this morning when she'd left, and hadn't said much the night before. She successfully ignored his questioning conversation by focusing on Lily. Harry could tell when her doting on her only daughter was out of just love and care, and when there was a caretaking-distraction ploy to not talk to him, just as Grandma Weasley cleaned and hovered to get out nervous energy. Something was up, and he didn't know what. And no matter how much paperwork he read on the currently titled 'Unexciting tales of Aurors in Daigon Ally reports 45,088 through 45,234" nothing was going to give him an idea of what she was up to.

Then there was a knock on his door. He looked up, "Yes?" As he magically organized his paperwork until a neat looking pile as opposed to the disorganized mess he preferred. "It's Ginny." A voice called out.

He smiled, "You know you can come in" stood up and promptly gave her a large twirling hug, mostly out of thankfulness for distracting him from his job. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

He gave her this incredulous look, like how could you even assume that. "Oh, no no, of course not. You know how its been these days"

She nodded, quiet. She seemed younger, sort of nervous, staring at her porcelain hands and when she did look up she did not look him in the eyes.

"What is wrong?" Fear went through him. He hadn't seen this look in a long time, not sense they'd lost a child to an unfortunate miscarriage 6 years prior. It was a nightmare he'd had in his soul, an emptiness of unspoken and unseen loss. The tone in his voice dropped. "Gin…"

She could tell Harry's mind had gone to the worst. "There is something strange going on in America and the Department wants me to move there to investigate it."

"What?" Harry was in shock, he wasn't quite sure where exactly this had come from, or what this was building up to. He'd heard a few whispers here and there, but nothing substantial, nothing in the mass paperwork he received. But, at least this was interesting.

"The Department has me set up as a spy against Michael Ravenheart, Harry."

"No." That was his immediate response. A cold, no you can't, which was the one thing that Ginny fought against the most, and her rebellious side was ignited with a fire that Harry knew, the moment after he said it, would never let him win. Even with all his power, fame and trails, Ginny Weasley-Potter had an unstoppable will, which he had fueled. "Gin… you've heard what that man has done! The only reason he's not in Azkaban is because he's got immunity through the American Counsel."

"He is going to come here. We're trying to figure out his plans, he's following some sort of legend, but we're not sure what, through an organization made to send its followers around the world. Harry- I've been given a chance. I can do this, and I want to do it…"

"But…" He paused… "He'd have no qualms in killing you…or worse…" Ginny grimaced. She knew what that worse was- she'd heard the stories as much as Harry had. The detailed horrors of what he did to the women who tried to oppose him, from the few survivors. They were not happy they survived.

"I can handle my own." Her hands went to her lips, brown eyes staring in determination.

Harry inwardly sighed, his tone becoming lower. "I don't doubt that Gin…I just, don't want you to do it alone."

"Harry, I'm telling you. Against direct orders of McKane- because I don't want to do this alone. Something big is going to happen, and I want you to know what is happening. I think it is more serious than they think- that its beyond the point of prevention. I don't know. But they want me to join their organization, and I have to set up a back story with their ministry and have property etc. For that, I need you."

He felt an excitement in his heart he hadn't felt in years, a tingle in his blood that made him want to go out into the world fighting. "How are you going to set up your backstory?"

"Well…this is the plan…"

Her plan was concrete and simple, live in London by night, buy magical property in a small village outside Boston. There had settled a quiet magic community, and apparently the housing department was content with backdating paperwork. There happened to be a small cottage up for sale, and she intended to buy it. Forging the school work was harder- they were going to make paperwork state that she studied mostly abroad with a few post education credits in the United States. Most of her achievements and skills could stay the same- but she was not to be Mrs. Potter, but Ms. Patricia Ginger, a young, energetic American woman who wanted to research and preach the great history of the American magic, that went back at least one thousand years. Ginny promised she'd keep a Portkey on her incase something happened, and keep in direct contact with him.

The plan sounded workable, the information they wanted wasn't to difficult to forge, and they had the money to go buy a house. But getting into the organization, doing observations and finding out the inside information, would prove more difficult. But, they both feared the same thing- that the higher levels resembled more of death eaters than of nationalistic enthusiasts, and she would be in considerable danger if she tried to rise up in the ranks. Ginny was willing to take this chance-but Harry was concerned. He'd seen Snape's pensive memories, spending hours looking through, admiring the strength that he had used, the cunning it had taken to fool Voldemort for all those years. His mind jumped in thought, and he recalled an event from a few years prior.

Harry had been sitting in his office, mulling about flipping pages over biding time before his shift ended to go home, when a honey-colored owl tapped at his window. Harry opened the window, and entered a golden owl, with a wingspan at least 5 feet across on his green carpet. "You are one beautiful owl" It was huge, its feathers were a mix of gold and natural browns and stirring eyes. It tag around its leg symbolized it was from the Malfoy Estate. And it had a small letter attached. Harry quickly opened it, while throwing down a few owl-treats for it. The owl gave a vocal purr sound in response, and then flew out to make its journey back.

_Dear Harry,_

I want to meet you at a quiet coffee shop off Sprigg's street one day soon, to discuss a few questions I had. I know I have had little contact with you, but I would prefer to speak to you in person. Send a reply with an answer.

**_Draco Malfoy._**

'Odd' Harry thought, looking at the red insignia M of the Malfoy house. He hadn't heard anything from Draco in years- not sense the trial of his father ended. Nothing really had been between the two personally at the trial, but he testified against his father, looking pale and afraid, unsure of his next move. Though, when is father was carted away his face turned to stone, looking more eerily like his father than he had been in years.

Harry walked up to him, as he stared at the door they'd pulled Lucius through, and simply said "Thank you." There was nothing else to be said- and with the relationship between the two, nothing else would have been heard anyway. Draco didn't acknowledge his presence. After an awkward moment of silence Harry just walked away. With the words he had spoken, Ron had been in an uproar later ' "How could you thank that hypocritical git? He HAD what was coming to him!"

Harry knew, no matter who your parents were, being under Voldemort's command and eye was never deserved.

But, to get a personal letter, nearly 7 years after was shocking, as they hadn't spoken sense. His interest was intrigued and he went.

While Draco Malfoy didn't seem relaxed at the coffee shop, there was a bit more color in his face, and his eyes were not filled with that dark burden that they use to be. He was still, calm cool and blunt, but there seemed to be a bit more life about him.

As Harry sat down, Draco leaned forward eyes darting from table to table.

"I have a question for you." Figures that Draco would go straight to the point, pleasantries were rarely used between them. Harry stiffened instinctually, few people spoke to him in such an indifferent manner.

"Shoot."

"I…" Malfoy paused, as if trying to collect the words "have a son."

"I heard. Congratulations."

"He's going to be in Gryffindor I think."

Harry almost dropped the latte he had ordered, his facial expressions showing his shock. "What?"

Draco sighed. "I said my son is going to be a Gryffindor. I wanted to let you know. Hopefully that your son and my son can at least be on speaking terms if nothing else."

"Why?" While Harry was honored by this move of respect towards him, he was unsure how to take it. Was there a possible underlying motive?

Draco shrugged. "To long has my family shunned the idea of bravery, Potter."

Harry nodded, he hear the underling disdainful reference to his birth family, and their past alliances. Draco stood up abruptly to leave.

"Wait. I have a question."

Draco paused.

"Can you tell me why you finally chose our side?"

Draco looked sort of astonished at the question, and debated a moment between the curt answer and the long one. Ever sense that fateful day, he had been accused for just changing sides to be on the winning one, to escape punishment. It did not matter the number of testimonies, seeing his father wither away into a skeletal heap of despair before his death, his mothers insanity, the loss of riches and of fame. To have Potter, trust that he made the decision on his own will was surprising in itself, the enemy believing in the enemy.

"Potter" He said choosing his words carefully, hand pushing the black iron chair towards the table. "No matter what I saw, no matter what I said and what I had done, I knew what right was in my mind. But freedom was not my choice, just like fame was not yours."

Harry nodded in understanding, but not approval. "If you want to talk…"

Draco stared at him, ice blue eyes clashing with emerald green, the cold analytical with emotional courage. He paused in consideration and set down.

"Potter, if you breathe a word of this…"

He laughed. The combination of distain and trust was slightly amusing. And he looked uncomfortable. "Like anyone would believe me anyway."

Draco slowly sat back down, and began confessing the things he'd seen, a lifetime of torture and misery. The thing that stood out for Harry the most was "Voldemort anger was nothing. It was when he was calm, when he was planning and thinking, when he had a mission to hurt- not to kill was he at his worst." There were things he described just as bad if not worse than what he'd seen through his soul-link, and Draco told them like a story, a factual occurrence of his day to day life.

Draco knew Harry would understand. And Harry did too. There was no comforting, or pity, 'that was awful'; there was just a mutual understanding and horror, each something wouldn't acknowledge except through eye contact and a sip of coffee.

They're relationship continued this way. Small stories of each side's horrors shared in a non-judgmental, non emotional fashion. They didn't stay in regular contact, but every-once-in-awhile agreed to meet at the same spot. There was little talk of family, little talk of there current selves, just a rehashing of the past to promote understanding between themselves.

Each side had their hardships.

He didn't want Ginny to see those hardships. He'd never discussed what they Draco had told him, because of his promise- but if those things could happen to her, he didn't want her to live like that.

Sometimes, Draco's eyes looked haunted, in a way that was incurable, that was almost like a Dementor's kiss. It was irreparable, irreversible and unforgettable. He couldn't bare to see Ginny's eyes like that- his playful irresistible fire.

"Harry?" Ginny asked tentatively, seeing his eyes get lost in thoughts.

"Oh…" He stuttered collecting himself "Just, if anything goes wrong, you come back immediately."

She nodded. Privately she knew she wasn't going to come back at the first sign of danger, that her job required her to push forward, to find out more. She knew Harry knew that, and wouldn't blame her… besides, if something did happen she was positive the wrath of Harry Potter would over power all of them there.

A few minutes later, Harry and Ginny were sitting at the desk, discussing Lily's growing up, her antics and how she would be out of the house soon, when a voice came from the fireplace "Mr. Potter!"

He turned in his chair, to see the floating head of Headmaster McGonagall a worried look on her face. She nodded to acknowledge Ginny's presence.

"Headmaster McGonagall, I hope that James and Albus are behaving themselves."

Her apprehensive expression vanished for a brief second with a smile, but then returned. "No, no, your son's are doing quite well at the moment. Nothing we can't handle, but Harry, I have some bad news."

He took in a deep breath, whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Depressingly the first thought that ran through his mind was someone was dead. "What is it?"

The headmaster paused for a second. "I'm afraid Dumbledore's tomb has been broken into. His wands been stolen. We don't know by whom- we like you to run an investigation."

Harry nodded. "I'll come do it myself."

* * *


	4. The Ashes Fall

** The Ashes Fall**

* * *

The next morning came with only a little fog that hung close the ground. Harry Potter apperated to Hogsmeade, grabbed his broom, and made his way at a slow and leisurely pace to Hogwarts, taking in the sites of the forest in the cool spring morning. His mind wandered as he reminisced on times of his school years. He landed at the Quidditch field, watching students from the current Ravenclaw team practice in the early morning dew, flying among the hoops doing various formations. He watched it with an eye of one who had done the sport for years, their seeker clung a little to tight to his broom in a practice dive, but the speed and form was extraordinary. One of the team members noticed him intently staring and responded to it with a "Hey! Get away from here, this is classified!"

Harry laughed. He couldn't help it; the serious look on the young man's face, along with his angry tone struck a chord with his memories- he remembered the fervor of his own team as they fought to win the tournament year to year. He just waved, jumped on his broom and flew on. McGonagall, Neville and others he knew were waiting for his arrival.

He arrived in the Great Hall moments after breakfast had started. He opened the door walked in, and all eyes turned towards him, as if he'd created a loud explosion. He sighed. The reaction to his entrance was on that never changed; a moment of silence, then hundreds of eyes staring figure out who he was, which was then quickly followed by hushed whispers wondering what he was doing there. He saw his sons over at the Gryffindor table, James with his head in his hands, with a classic 'oh great, why is my dad here' expression, that can only be made by those in their teenage years. The attention and reactions of the students didn't bother Harry- he'd finally had resigned himself to their reactions. He walked confidently to the Professor's table, grabbed a seat and greeted them.

There was a mix of familiar faces both new and old; professors from his time at Hogwarts, and students that had moved on to become Professors. He was most surprised to see Cho Chang, a new addition to the Hogwarts staff, eating quietly at the far end of the table with only a glance in his direction. Time, seemed to treat everyone well, though there was ominous cloud of silence around the table because of the break-in. Everyone knew it- Hogwarts security had been breached, and nobody knew how or why. Harry was here to solve how it had happened, something like this could not happen again. It had been years since the last documented break in, a highly coordinated effort by Voldemort himself, and that was the fateful day where Doubledore gave his life, to lead toward the final victory.

Neville gave him a friendly wave, but it was McGonagall who spoke first, "Thank you again for coming Harry."

"Its no problem, Headmistress."

"Harry, you can call me Minerva now…" She gave him a stern look.

Nothing made him feel older than calling those who use to be his professors by their first names, but it was also an honor to be considered equal to those who he admired so much.

"Of course." He paused grabbing a scone from the table, "What exactly happened yesterday?"

"We're not quite sure honestly. There were some pretty powerful spells on the tomb, Harry," McGonagall's eyes looked genuinely scared, although she hid it well.

He nodded. "I know. I cast some of them." His voice sounded grave, his mind trying to think of possibilities of whom it could have been. To break the protective spells cast by the now separated Order of the Phoenix, took a lot of skill and mastery over the Dark Arts. Between Kinsley, Hermione, Himself, McGonagall and a few others, he had assumed that the curses would have been unbreakable, without at least someone noticing.

"They were broken through, methodically, like someone knew exactly what spells were there. The wand was taken, and everything placed back. We're not even sure how long its been missing- it was that the spells were gone which led to the discovery. "

"So it could have happened weeks ago?"

She nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

"And there is no idea who?" She shook her head. "We're pretty sure it wasn't a student, none of the students we have now have shown that type of potential, even our seventh years. It takes so much training outside of what we teach here. So, either someone walked in, or it was staff."

Both options were particularly frightening. Either Hogwarts had been infiltrated from the outside; a place recognized and trusted for its safety and security or there was a traitor in their midst.

He took a long hard look at everyone at the staff table; some he recognized and others he didn't, but all were listening intently to their conversation.

"Prof …Minerva, we'll talk about this later. I'm going to go down to the tomb and see if I can get an idea of what spells were cast, and when. I may call a few others in on the case, with your permission."

"Harry, do what you need to do, we have got to get that wand back."

Harry shrugged. "The wand alone isn't any stronger than the magician…they'd still have to go through me."

"They may, Harry."

He grimaced, glancing at his Son's who were intently arguing over something leaning against the table, eyes clashing. "If they do, we'll deal with that then."

He stood up, and walked over towards the Gryffindor table, while whispering a charm under his breath to amplify his sons' voices hear their intense discussion.

The two almost looked like twins, aside from the dramatic hair difference: James had inherited Harry's black mop, while Albus had taken on the traditional Weasley red. They both had a mishmash of Harry's and Ginny's features; ivory skin, a few freckles, bright green eyes, and curly unmanageable hair. Albus had got stuck with a pair of glasses, which made him look older than his brother, which matched their personalities as Albus had the more serious nature of the two.

James Potter leaned in towards his younger brother. "I swear I didn't do it, Al! I was with Professor Lockley."

Albus gave him this incredulous look, "Then why is dad here?"

Scorpius, Draco's son, leaned in between the two bickering brothers, with a pointed look, cool blue eyes analyzing them. He was a spitting image of Draco Malfoy, but with longer platinum blonde hair tied back in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. "Both of you, your father is coming. Why don't you figure out why he is here before admitting to whatever tricks and mayhem you've done recently."

Albus nodded. James retorted "Well, you better not say anything either."

Scorpius gave a small grin "Like I would. Besides, as he's not my father I suspect I'd end up in a lot more trouble from him, than he'd give the two of you combined."

"It doesn't stop you!"

Scorpius smiled, "Of course not. What kind of Malfoy would I be if I hid from danger?"

Harry made it to the table and all three boys fell silent, indicating that they were hiding something, not knowing he had listened in.

"Hello boys." He greeted the entire table. There were many students that he knew; friends' and former classmates' children.

"Hi Dad" Albus and James chorused, though they didn't seem too pleased. Albus spoke up first, "What are you doing here dad?"

"Business." He wasn't about to explain the complicated story of the Elder Wand to them. "I need to talk with a few professors. And, to check up on you two, of course." He wanted to give them a stern look, but couldn't; he knew the tricks and antics played by them were fun, and honestly he loved to hear the stories from Professors when they were caught. Eventually, he would give them a few hints of his own, but had been waiting for the right time. He was a little concerned that James would get himself expelled, as he had very little sense of when to stop his adventures and games, especially without Albus there to remind him. "I'll catch up with you later in the day." Harry looked at his watch-it was about time for their first class. "Behave yourselves."

"Of course! Al and I are meeting with Professor Lockley at four, but we'll see you after that?" James chirped, with a grin that only meant trouble and Harry knew it.

He'd heard from McGonagall and Neville that Lockley had a mischievous streak, and had helped his sons plan for the occasional well-placed dungbomb, and then would completely deny being an accomplice later. He'd never talked to Lockley in person, though from what he heard, he had been assured he was a fascinating, cheerful man who helped out students and taught Runes excellently. He also knew that Al's potion grade had risen dramatically sense Lockley had taken him under his wing. He interrupted his own thoughts, and replied to his sons. "Yes, of course, after dinner. Oh, Scorpius, send your father my thanks." Harry wasn't quite sure how Draco felt about their sons hanging out together, as it was surprising that they'd formed such a trio. Harry didn't mind that they'd chosen to befriend Scorpius, but he was surprised that Draco hadn't been against it. Ron minded though, and that Malfoy's son was his Godsons' best friend seemed to irk him on a day to day basis.

"Yes sir."

Harry walked off, through the large oak doors, down staircases and through stone hallways. He walked past portraits that he'd had conversations with, and suits of armor he had fought beside. It was like walking down memory lane, he remembered the battles and the friendships, the problems with homework and their relationship issues. He could almost hear Ron and Hermione bickering behind him, the whispers that Voldemort may be on the rise, gossip of Lavender's new boyfriend and predicted scores of the upcoming Quidditch match. In what felt like no time at all Harry arrived at Dumbledore's tomb.

Looking at the scene, he quickly understood why no one had noticed. The tomb was pretty far away from normal student routes, and it looked untouched. They're had been a few hasty spells cast on it again, for protection, though not nearly as powerful as before. Simply there hadn't been time, and there was nothing left to hide. He went up to the archway, and ran his finger down the cool stone trying to figure out what happened. However they broke in, they were careful not to set off any of the countermeasures, there were no scorch marks, no indications that there had been spells to protect it. Each stone was the same as it had been 19 years ago. He knew some of the spells that were cast to protect it contained pretty nasty jinxes, and for none of them to be set off was absolutely amazing. Harry was pretty sure, even though he knew all the spells that had been used, he wouldn't have been able to open it without a single spell going off against him. He then ran his hands along the cold, stone floor, making a cloud of dust when he went. Underneath it was an inscription of runes, that was warm to the touch, indicating it had been a recently active spell. He knew it was new. He blew the rest of the dust away, it seemed to be a long, complicated inscription. Harry was not familiar with much Rune lore, so he made a mental note to contact Hermione, who would be capable of translating it into something of meaning.

Could they have used the ancient magic to break into the tomb? Or was this a new branch of the Dark Arts he hadn't encountered before? How did it work?

He realized the dust had stuck to his hands, leaving almost a charcoal like residue behind. "Ash." He said aloud to himself.

But what did that mean?

Ash and Runes had no connection to him, but the oddness of the occurrence seemed to be related. He searched the rest of the area methodically, but he could not bring himself to open the tomb; looking at the face of his dead mentor was something he couldn't bear. He'd assign an Auror or two to the job, besides Faraway might have more of an idea what the Runes were anyway.

Meanwhile, several thousand miles away in another country, Ginny Weasley-Potter had finished setting up paperwork of the house, gathered identity paperwork and created her story. Patricia Ginger had now owned a quaint three bedroom house since the late 1980's, having moved there after a world tour researching history. Before that Patricia had been in school, visiting Drumstrang, Hogwarts and various private magical schools around the United States to get the best education she could- of course each of these schools had connections with the Ministry of Magic so the Paperwork could be forged.

She'd learned a little bit about the schools, charmed her accent away, transfigured her hair to a new sleek blonde and was about to enter the main AMA office in Boston to set up a time to go through the daunting selection process. She'd have time to make sure she knew the made-up facts of Patricia Ginger by heart, and she even debated trying to have someone spell her so she thought it was the truth, although since she was already and expert at occlumency, as the Department of Mysteries required it, she thought perhaps it was overkill. Also it would meant that she would fully believe she was Ginger, and wouldn't be able to investigate whilst she was in the building. She was still concerned that her occlumency would slip, causing her to be caught and end up like the other women who had encountered Michael Ravenheart. There was this warning tingle in the back of her brain she was trying to ignore, the same one she use to get before Fred and George played some horrible trick on her. She quelled it, walking up to the large pristine office building, which had the AMA on the 6th Floor. It was morning in Boston, which made it early afternoon her time… she hoped it wouldn't take to long because she did need to pick Lily up from school.

It looked just like a large Muggle skyscraper- and for the most part it was. Muggle offices were interspersed between Muggle ones; apparently the wizarding and Muggle communities were much less segregated than in London, although she did get the impression that Muggles remained completely obvious to their magical surroundings. She used the elevator, entered to the 6th floor, with her AMA pamphlet in hand, following the instructions to make an appointment.

The office was a mismatch of both the Muggle and wizarding worlds; telephones and floo, bulletin boards with moving pictures. From Harry she knew a bit about Muggle fashion, and they all seemed to fall into the mold, no one dressing in wizard robes, but most had their wands on their belts. A young secretary, possibly under 20 filed her perfectly pink manicured nails by hand. The secretary seemed wholly uninterested in Ginny when she stated her false name. The secretary only looked up from her nail file to say "If you want to apply, no one is in today."

"Would there be a better time to apply?"

The secretary sat up from her slouched position and got out an appointment book. She pulled out a wand, and tapped the page. Times and Dates floated up in a curvy green letters that floated up in front of Ginny waiting for her to touch one to indicate her the time and date she wanted."Choose one, and come back then. Franklin is always glad for new recruits." The words seem very detached from her, as if she were a robot saying what she'd been told to say over and over. She went back to her nails.

Ginny touched the next day, early afternoon and decided she would return, the

appointment time in the book turned red indicating the time slot was taken. "The Name is Patricia." Ginny stated again, but the woman ignored her.

Ginny was wholly unimpressed; this seemed to be a mockery rather than an actual organization fit to destroy the world or something. She sighed, and left to organize her new house to ensure her cover.

Decorating a house was sort of fun. Harry agreed to let her turn it into a vacation home, away from the European crowds, friends and family for a quiet get away. He'd told her to go to Gringotts, run around and buy whatever she needed, not to worry about price, and time. There were advantages to having a very wealthy Husband. The two normally saved more than they spent, so even though it was terribly expensive, they could afford it. It was admittedly exciting; her mother had taught her tons about décor and fashion, even though with the six boys in the house when she was growing up, meant no one could tell. Ginny had a fondness for shopping, arranging and decorating, and she could just imagine coming here later for a quiet, uninterrupted vacation with Harry (even though she knew he would end up bored to tears).

Time past quickly, and soon it was time to pick up her daughter from school. She couldn't wait to see Lily as she always was a bundle of energy, talking about her day and the interesting things she had learned. Lily's exuberance for life would just glow into her heart. With a flick of her wand, she apperated to the elementary school ground.

And came upon a scene of disaster.

The grass was covered in a fine ash, which also hung in the air and burned her eyes. Ginny took in a sharp breath, pulled her wand to a defensive posture and squinted through the dust to see what spells where being cast. None she could tell that were offensive, mostly healing spells and spells to detect and count children. Her heart nearly stopped as she scanned the crowd, where was Lily? The building had a hole, where it looked like an explosion had taken place. She hadn't seen anything like this in years, and her daughter, her only daughter had been in the middle of it. Fear gripped her heart; where was Lily?

Aurors had appeared around the ground, taking command, and healing burns. She recognized most of them from her association with Harry, and they ran in and out of the school building some analyzing a pile of debris off to the side.

Harry was at Hogwarts investigating the missing wand, she knew that, and she also knew was impossible for Lily to be with him. She sprinted forward, to enter the building.

Near the destroyed entrance she was stopped by a pair of strong hands, which she immediately fought against. She had to find Lily! Where was Lily?

"Mrs. Potter!"

Kingsley's strong voice. She knew it was his. She still fought, trying to barrel through his body. "Let me go I need to look for Lily!"

Kingsley held her still by tightly grabbing onto her shoulders and looked directly into her eyes. Ginny knew then, before he even told her that Lily was missing. "No…"

"Ginny, we're doing everything we can. Lily is not in this building. She's been kidnapped. I need you to go get Harry."

Get Harry. What about getting Lily? Her maternal instincts froze unleashed overpowering logic. Getting Harry could waste time when she could be scouring the area for her daughter. Getting Harry would mean going to Hogwarts, far away from the last place she had seen Lily, and she would have break the news to her husband. Both made it very a unappealing option. "I…" She was completely overwhelmed by emotion; she had to find Lily.

Kingsley could see the decisions she was trying to make in her head, he repeated himself. "I need you to get Harry so he can help. Ginny, the best Wizards are here looking for your daughter, at this moment. You have to go to Hogwarts, talk to Harry and get back here. We are going to find your daughter, Ginny. She is going to be ok."

She nodded. She hadn't had enough time to think about becoming too hysterical yet. She followed his orders and apperated to Hogsmeade.

She didn't have a broom, so she ran until her lungs burned, until her legs became jelly, but regardless, she continued on. She ran through fields and over branches on the dirt path they'd traveled down in carriages for years to and from the small city. She ran up to the gates, and through hallways screaming Harry's name.

She ran towards McGonagall's office, ignoring the stares of students, she ran up to the office cursing at the gargoyle until he let her through, up the twirling staircase into McGonagall's office. Ginny pushed the door open with all her force. She didn't even let the Headmistress acknowledge presence. "Where's Harry? Its an emergency!" She could hardly get the words out, somewhere along the way she'd started crying, and her breathing was very labored. Harry was standing there, his face pale, wand drawn. He looked like a shadow.

"You know?" McGonagall seemed shocked. She was the only one to be able to speak.

"What? I- Lily's missing." She looked at Harry, whose expression went darker, if that was possible. She'd seen him happier at the prospect of facing Voldemort.

McGonagall stood wide eyed, staring at Ginny dirty, covered in ash and sweat, hair flying all around her with her mascara running down her face. "Gin…" Harry's voice was barely a whisper. "James and Albus are gone too. Lockley took them."

Silence. Her mind couldn't take it. All three of her children?

"What?"

Who was this Lockley? Her children. Gone.

"They've been kidnapped."

She just fell to her knees her body just couldn't take it. Harry took her and pulled her close as she just sobbed, her body shaking with exhaustion. "Ginny, I have got to contact all the Aurors."

"Of course." She whispered, through her labored breath. She stood up, her legs burning with what she'd put them through.

He aimed his wand at the fireplace, which appeared a deep blue fire. He spoke into it, knowing it would reach every Auror alive.

"This is Harry Potter, Head Auror by declaration of the Ministry of Magic. Lily Potter, age 9, Albus Potter, age 11 and James Potter age 13 have all been kidnapped by a man named Harold Lockley. These are my children, gentlemen. Your orders are to find them, and bring them back alive."

There was nothing else to say.

* * *


	5. Threats and Promises

**Threats and Promises**

* * *

By the time Harry and Ginny had apperated back to the school yard, only Aurors were there, milling through debri trying to gather evidence. Others had spread out, going to offices to gather floo records, apperation tracks, spell records and other things the Ministry recorded to try and trace where the children had been taken.

Harry's eyes had gone blank. His facial expression was cold, devoid of emotion; he was only focused on his mission: to get his children back. Ginny stood behind him, looking rather shaken and quiet, scanning the area for any sign of their children. She wanted to run around screaming out their names, waiting for their cheerful voices to respond.

Kingsley took strode over to them after giving a few orders to Aurors in the area. His presence was authoritative and powerful, he seemed to have the situation under as his control.

"News?" Harry sounded as if a dementor was standing over him, all his joy seemed to have been sucked away- but no patronus or chocolate would relieve the misery.

Kingsley shook his head. "Nothing concrete. We are looking into the AMA, Ginny." Kingsley said pointedly, "The department of mysteries released their classified files. But, Harry and Ginny, I want you to know we discovered something rather, phenomenal… it appears the explosion came not from whomever took your child, but from Lily herself. I know it is not a consolation, but she is an exceptional child; she has your power, and apparently your fighting spirit, and by those reasons alone, I dare to say she's going to be alright."

Harry's mind was reeling. His sweet, innocent baby girl had blown up the front part of her school? "She…" He trailed off and looked at Ginny. "She must have gotten that from you."

Ginny had a fleeting smile, but didn't speak. They could jest about her fiery temper after their children were safe. Harry was uncomfortable with the silence, but he couldn't think of what to say, so he addressed Kingsley again. "Hogwarts had the same type of thin ash- are they connected?"

Kingsley nodded. "I think so. There were reports from witnesses that a night- phoenix appeared. Though night- phoenixes are rumored now extinct somehow and considered legend. The details are skeptical at best."

'Just a legend' were not words Harry ever wanted to hear; he either had the innate ability to turn a legend to truth, or he had been lied to over and over. "Legends can be true. I want all the information you can dig up on this."

"Of course."

"Kingsley, have you found traces of Runes here?"

"We have. There is a team trying to investigate their meaning currently. Its an ancient western set-not known well around here- and the current ministry expert, is now a suspect in the crimes."

"Hermione did post-school work with Runes didn't' she?" Ginny inquired.

"Yes, She did a lot of traveling and studding, she loved it. She can defiantly help. Kingsley, have her contacted so we can get her onboard this mission immediately."

"And Charlie." Ginny interrupted, her voice still trembling. "Charlie claims to have encountered a night-phoenix once, a few years back. He'd be able to tell us the most about them, I think, as he looked into all the lore surrounding them. I'll go to his place and see if he has any useful information. They are said to be strange creatures, I know that much."

She took a few steps away and turned back to see Kingston talking to Harry with hushed whispers. "Harry?" He turned to face her.

"I…"She paused for a long time with a loss of words "I'm sorry." She had tears running down her face, but retained her composure, the fiery spirit was still in her eyes, and gaining considerable strength. "I'll see you when I can. You'd better hope that someone else finds him before I do, because as soon as I get close enough to that bastard I promise you he will regret being born. The ministry will not like my methods." And she apperated to visit her older brother.

Charlie Weasley was simply the forever-bachelor type. His small apartment remained cluttered, undecorated and generally dirty, and that's the way Charlie liked it. After years of being a Dragon Keeper living in tents from on the field using paper plates and plastic sporks he'd become accustomed to the simple life: a little (to much) drinking, fighting dangerous creatures, short term firey relationships, combined with intense flirting and fighting. No girl had ever tamed this Weasley, and it was probably going to stay that way.

Charlie had returned home from work early, relaxing on his a too old couch with his muddy boots up on the coffee table, and his filthy shirt tossed onto the floor. The faint pop captured his attention. He shot up and pulled out his wand.

"Whoa whoa, it's me!" She raised her hands in the air.

His adrenaline was now pumping fast, but the moment he realized that the bedraggled woman standing in front of him was his sister, he became filled with concern. "Ginny! What happened to you?"

As Ginny was asked tears started falling down her face, for what felt like the 15th time in the last hour. Charlie immediately felt panic - dragons were one thing, but crying females were far more perilous and much more likely to misinterpret any action. It was something he wasn't particularly ready to encounter.

"Gin, Gin, don't cry. Whatever you need, you know I'll help." He wiped away some of the ash that had stuck to her face and pulled her into a hug. "You know, you look awful when you cry."

"Stuff it." She glared.

Charlie grinned. "Now there is the Ginny I know and love!"

Ginny took a deep breath, "Charlie…someone took my children."

There was no funny retort, no joke to lighten the mood. He just sat down on the couch feeling the shock enter him, as it had done to Ginny and Harry earlier in the day. He'd grown quite fond of his niece and nephews, over the many times he had visited them. "All of them?"

She nodded. "Charlie- can you tell me what you know about Dark Phoenixes?"

"A Dark Phoenix?" Charlie looked perplexed and fascinated. "The kidnappers had one?"

"The Aurors think so."

He bit his lip. Under other circumstances, he may have laughed, or exaggerated his tale, as it had been told many times as simply a story that no one really believed. But this was a time for truth. "Feisty beasts those. Some dragons have the smarts to be afraid of 'em, and it's for the best. They are beautiful; like a black-hole of flame, they look like burning darkness, a silhouette of fire. They have this ability like dementors, but not as strong. They are banned in Europe completely, from some old law over 500 years old that wasn't taken off the books. Nobody was quite sure they still existed, but I swear to you, it was definitely one. We found a guy a few years ago that was trying to raise one, how he got one, I have no idea. He died."

"How?"

Charlie shrugged. "We didn't quite figure it out honesty, Phoenixes are extremely loyal, normal or dark; their name is not a matter of good or evil, more of color and temperament. The Dark's temperament is very volatile, it's like they thirst for action, for violence, but their loyalty is typically very strong. They are merciless against those who fight their owners. It was quite a fight to get that one even contained, let alone transport. We think his owner was murdered, but it remained unsolved."

"How do you fight them? What if this man has this…this thing around my children?"

"They call them dark for two reasons, Ginny. One because of their coloring, that slick black is so striking, like a moving shadow flame that's hard to explain, and the fact that if they attack and hit you'll most likely will end up blind. It's a magical property of the fire- if you can call it that – when it hits your body your eyes stop working. We had a guy transferred up to St. Mungo's because of that one. It's incurable. They are immune to a lot of magic. From history people who had them used Runes to keep them under control, for some reason they have more of an effect. We used Runes to contain him, mostly. The tough part is that they are Phoenixes, so they don't die. Nothing will kill them, even if you do capture one. At worst you're doomed to wait out its death, which is on about a 20 year cycle. We got lucky, it was near its death at containment, so we just moved the baby out of the country to a known Phoenix Tamer. I don't know what happened to it after that. "

"Who helped you use Runes?"

"An American, I think his name was Peter Rosen, an odd quiet man, that one. But his help was indispensable, he knew more about the things than I ever will. I'm glad he was there, without him we'd never would have been able to trap the thing."

"Was he a part of the American Magical Association?"

"What's that?"

"We think they're involved. Thank you for the name Charlie- I really have to go. If there is anything else you can tell me…"

"Gin- if there is anything I can do- tell me. I'll go contact some of my old friends and see if they know what happened to Peter."

"Can…can you tell the rest of the family?"

He nodded. "I haven't seen mom in awhile anyway. Ginny, be careful. No matter what you are my little sis. If there is anything, and I do mean anything get a hold of me."

"Of course."

Even though it was reaching dusk, Ginny knew she had a long night ahead of her. She apperated back to meet Harry, and to continue focusing on searching for her children. The facts swirled in her head: Lily, James, Albus. Peter Rosen, A Dark Pheonix, the AMA, Michael Ravenheart, runes, ashes and fire. How did all this connect? More importantly, how did they know? She was determined to find out, and kill them.

A tall gruff man, unshaven, wearing a black flowing trenchcoat carried a young passed out girl in his arms. At first he looked like he was saving a child from a battlefield, covered in a fine ash, walking calmly away from the scene of disaster. He didn't look like a villain; he looked to calm, clean-shaven and sane for that. A black raven like bird sat on his shoulder, silent. The only indication of its magical abilities was when it moved, even a fraction of an inch, little clouds of ash fell, like tiny rain storms. The man's thin dark eyebrows remained furrowed, this little girl was much more than he bargained for. The plan hadn't gone smoothly, especially after she'd cast whatever she did- (that fire was intense, especially from a nine year old). But, it was not enough to stop him. She'd promptly passed out afterwards, he didn't know if it was in exhaustion, shock, or fear. His orders weren't to ask questions, but to grab the girl and go to the meeting place, which he had successfully done.

The meeting place outside a small log-cabin cottage, resembling something from the early colonel days of America, all alone in the forest. The house looked like an old abandoned relic, and there was little indicator that anyone had ever lived there. It did not have lights, a fence, or driveway. The ground was overgrown with plants and wildlife and the windows were covered in a thick grey dust.

"Peter- do you have the girl?" A voice asked from the darkness of the surrounding forest.

Peter recognized the voice, and he turned towards it. "Yes, Michael."

Michael Ravenheart, wanted in more countries than he cared to count, had manipulated the American Counsel, the equivalent of the Ministry of Magic in Britain, to give him sanctuary in their country under a few special conditions. However, he was not monitored, and so he just ignored the agreement. Even though he had just successfully kidnapped the three children of one of the most popular and prominent wizards in modern times he still seemed relaxed, light hearted and oddly cheerful. He was a pale, lanky man, with finely cut brown hair that gave him the look of a handsome CEO or businessman. He seemed to radiate charm, with a smile that would mesmerize both men and women alike.. His hands were comfortably relaxed in his jean pockets, as he casually leaned against a tree. "Lockley brought the other two- they're inside. Did you have trouble with the little one?" He noted the scorch marks on the trench coat, and the ash covering his body.

Peter nodded. "It was quite an experience. This one has a lot of power in her… though I'm not quite sure how she sensed she was in danger. But as soon as she saw Ashes here," he indicated the bird, "She cast a firespell that caused more damage than I was really prepared for, but then fell unconscious."

"She cast without a wand?"

He nodded. "This one is special, if we can get her to turn…"

Michael cut him off. "Let's not think too far ahead. We need to see what happens in the next few days. Potter isn't going to let his children go easily. We have a mission- we need to find out how much they know about their father, the ministry, and its defenses. If we can use them in our forces afterwards, then it's wonderful- but if they are captured back, we haven't suffered a loss." He saw Lily Potter beginning to stir, her little hands twitching as she moaned. "Now, inside, before she wakes up."

They stepped over the rune barrier around the house, separate symbols glowing in a faint blue hue. As soon as they entered the one bedroom cabin, Peter dropped Lily onto the floor.

James and Albus looked up from the corner. James reacted immediately, green eyes flashing with hatred.

"What have you done to my sister!" He leapt forward at Peter, like a bear going in for the kill. He was wandless, probably half his size, but still had every intention to attempt to hurt him.

Michael responded, with a calculated flick of his wand, and suddenly James potter was against the cabin wall, his breath being pushed out of him by some magical force. James continued to struggle; wiggling and fighting to break free. He did not seem afraid, and his green eyes focused on Michael in hatred. He struggled to get the words out, but succeeded "I said- What did you do to my sister!?"

Michael's demeanor totally changed, he looked positively evil as he took slow steps towards the boy.

Albus remained still. Eyes darting between his sister and his brother. Defenseless, he tried looking for exits, he knew they were completely out powered. He bit his lip as he watched.

Michael pointed his wand at James throat. "Your father will not save you. You cannot save yourself. I shall make it clear- I will hurt you. I will make you wish that you were dead. You will not see your parents again."

Albus couldn't believe it. "My dad will come! He is the most powerful wizard…"

"Shut up." Michael flicked his want and Albus couldn't speak, silenced. The words just wouldn't come at all; he could move his mouth, but no sound.

Michael looked at the two boys. "Listen. If you cooperate, this will be much less painful. If you behave, I will have mercy. The moment you step out of line, you will not be forgiven. Each question you do not answer will cause you pain. For each lie that you tell, I will hurt your siblings. Each attempted escape or attack, I will hurt you. Understand- I do not care about you. If you die, it does not harm me. Your father does not know where you are. Your mother does not know where you are. The ministry does not know where you are. They don't know who I am. You are trapped, unless I decide for you not to be. My name is Ravenheart, remember that. I can be your savior, or your destroyer. It depends on the choices that you make."

With a flick of his wand James Potter dropped to the floor, but he did not undo the spell on Albus.

Ravenheart glanced at Peter, silently communicating with him. "We will be back." And walked out the door, locking it from the outside with a click.

Michael looked at Peter. "Send the announcement. They have 72 hours to respond. If Harry Potter does not come wandless, alone and willing to give us his blood, we will kill his children."

"Of course, sir." Peter looked back at the cabin as they walked away. "If I may ask- do you think we'll get the information we need?"

"We need his blood more than information. The children are expendable- they are just a tool and a bargaining chip. Lets get back to Boston."

Then they were gone.

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End of Chapter ! Harry Potter says "REVIEW!" Thanks. 


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